


No Vinegar, Please

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2018 [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: It's the old story. Droid meets Spider. Droid pays Spider to kill Human. Human befriends Spider instead. Spider befriends Droid. Droid and Spider fall in love. Droid and Spider get married with Human as a guest. How often do we hear that one?





	No Vinegar, Please

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Mettaton and Muffet's marriage, plox

The doors to the hall had opened two hours previously, and since then it had been a non-stop stream of guests of all shapes and sizes. Anyone who was anyone in the eyes of the groom, anyone who had enjoyed the products of the bride, all of their collective friends, and Jerry, had accepted the invitation to the big day excitedly. Physical constraints meant the very largest were confined to the back, while those in danger of being trod on were marshalled to the front by Frisk, acting as coordinator. The one exception to this order of size was Asgore, standing on a slightly raised platform, making small talk with the groom in his last moments of freedom.

"Nervous, Mettaton?"

"Oh, not at all, your Highness." For the occasion, all his pink panels had been replaced with gold, though whether it was literal gold was an open question he'd enjoyed being coy about. "I've put on bigger shows than this. But this will be the most spectacular."

"Wonderful," beamed Asgore, "and I believe... ah, there she is."

Crossing his hands solemnly, he nodded over to Undyne, who began playing the organ as only she could. And then she softened her key strokes so they weren't so loud. All eyes - and unidentified anatomical features that served a similar function - turned to the ornate entrance to the hall.

There stood Muffet, in a floor length lavender dress, all five eyes hidden behind a matching veil, walking up the aisle. A blue bunny in a simple tuxedo matched her stride, beaming at the honour of what he'd been asked to do. The hem of her dress was held in the mouth of an excited muffin-spider, trying with all its might not to break out into a gallop and keep pace with its mistress.

A curious chittering noise broke out near the front of the hall. The thousands of spiders occupying the first three pews were crying. They were accompanied in this by Toriel, who dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief from her seat at the back of the hall. As the music reached a crescendo, the happy bride reached where the others stood. His duty discharged, the bunny stood alongside the best man - whose fauxedo t-shirt successfully hid how little his boss paid him - and Napstablook, floating with all the digniy he could muster. On Muffet's side, Bratty and Catty stood in matching dresses, looking like they were bursting to gossip about this, even though nearly all their friends were in the hall and would know about this already. With everyone in position, Asgore raised his arms in a welcoming stance.

"Honoured friends," he announced, "we are gathered here on this day to witness the commitment these two happy lovers have agreed to pledge to each other."

The chittering started up again. It was accompanied by an array of audible sniffles from random positions in the room.

"The souls of monsters," he continued, "always have natural bonds with those of their family, ensuring nobody is truly alone. Agreeing to marriage, to forging a new bond with one who is otherwise a stranger, is a sign of great love and trust, not entered into lightly. Doing so as a flight of fancy belies the duties you commit to..." He cleared his throat. "But, erm, I doubt anyone cares about the serious stuff, shall we all proceed to the good part?"

With him or at him it wasn't clear, but the audience chuckled politely. Asgore let them settle down at their own pace.

"Oh good," whispered Toriel to Frisk, "I thought he was going to copy his father completely. That was dull."

"Grandpa performed your wedding?" replied Asriel.

"It was traditional for the King to perform the ceremony for their heir, my child. It served as extra pressure for them to marry the proper sort."

"Were you the proper sort?" asked Frisk.

"Oh look," she dodged, "he's continuing."

"Now then. I have been informed that the bride and groom wish to say a few words of their own before they formally bond. Which of you would like to...?"

Mettaton accepted the offer, turning round to face the audience. He did not face straight ahead, but at an angle, making sure Muffet was clearly in his line of sight.

"Darling," he began, "no, more than Darling - Muffet."

Giggles slipped from under the veil. They acted as an inadvertent signal for the chittering to break out, though the tone was unmistakably more exuberant.

"I'll never forget when we first met. That was when I hired you to try and kill our dear ambassador." He gestured magnanimously at Frisk. "But our _second_ meeting, my my. Everything about you caught my attention. Your hard-nosed pitch that spider donuts be the licensed snack on my first surface tour. Your playful banter as you tried to flatter my ego while never letting me forget the deal. And of course, your cute venomous fangs."

More giggles and chittering filled the hall.

"They were a potent mixture, dear. I had to see what we could bake together. So we had our first date. Negotiating the percentages of a branded croissant package over wine. What better way was there to spend life? Well, I soon found out, didn't I?"

Three hands covered Muffet's mouth as she shared in reminiscence. "Auhuhuhu..."

"Every moment in your presence as only made me sure of this. We were made for each other. It matters not that in many ways we come of two worlds - two minds, even - we compliment each other, and look amazing all the while. I love you."

A soft "awwww" floated around the hall. For a moment several of Muffet's twitched, as though wanting to reach up and caress that hard chiselled face, but she managed to reign them in.

"Beautifully spoken," said Asgore. "Now, would the bride care to speak?"

"Yes, she would." Muffet adopted the mirror of the stance Mettaton had.

"My knight in sparkling armour. I remember our first meeting too. And so does our Ambassador, so I'll skip it. But yesss, our second meeting. It didn't take long to figure out you were a hardball guy. You're the rarity that accepts flattery without distraction. I felt like... I had a worthy adversary. One who knew the importance of branding."

"Like nothing else," whispered Mettaton.

"But you sell yourself short with your account of our date. You sampled my wares for the first time then. It's not just a raw numbers game - you don't forget the numbers, though, and that's attractive - you appreciate the finer things in life. It wasn't just marketing haggling, we've had a fruitful business relationship outside of the papers. The MTT™ Arachnae Ampitheater could never have come to be without your will and your wallet. And your new headquarters building would have missed a more delicate touch and be a third more expensive if I didn't tap my extensive web of contacts, most of who are in the second row right now. But it's not all business. After all, who needs money-" she lightly petted his lap "-with legs like these?"

There was another "awwwww", and bride and groom allowed each other a look into the other's face.

"Absolutely -*Sniff*- beautiful," said Asgore. "And now, without further ado, the whole reason we're here. Hands or other appendages, please."

Mettaton offered his right, Muffet her upper and middle left. Asgore selected the upper one, and guided both her and Mettaton's hand into each other's firm grasp. The audience's sniffles went toe to toe with the chittering.

"The ribbons, please?"

The cat in the fauxedo shirt and Catty stepped forward. The best man dropped a shocking pink ribbon into one furry hand, while Catty gently placed a deep purple one into the other, before both returned to their position. Asgore took the pink one first.

"Happenstance Inkyrius Blook. Do you pledge to live with this monster before you, to act as one in all matters of family, to care for in times of trouble, to listen and communicate, but above all to love, 'til naught but dust remains?"

"Oh, I absolutely do."

Beaming, Asgore delicately wrapped the ribbon around the holding hands. And then he took the purple one.

"Emuffetella Hortense Widowska. Do you pledge to live with this monster before you, to act as one in all matters of family, to care for in times of trouble, to listen and communicate, but above all to love, 'til naught but dust remains?"

"You betcha!"

The second ribbon joined the first. All gazes were drawn to it for what felt like the longest time. Then Asgore's claw lightly touched a point where the two met, and a soft flame swiftly consumed them, entwined ribbons of flame which rested harmlessly on the adjoined hands before eventually fading. The few who hadn't attended a monster wedding before instinctively understood that it was done.

"By the power bestowed in me as King and Leader of all Monsters, I proclaim you to be wed. You may-"

Muffet wasn't waiting for royal permission. With two hands throwing back her veil, the other four seized Mettaton's lapel, yanking him down to her height to seal the deal. Neither of them heard the uproar of cheers, whooping laughs, applause, sobs, growls, squawks, blorps and chittering as their kiss continued. There was only each other. The first thing they heard from reality was the passionate organ music starting up again.

"Auhuhu, I have you now, my deary," muttered Muffet.

"More like we have each other, darling," responded Mettaton. "Remember, the pre-nup is in effect now."

"Oh, we're gonna have a lot of fun poking the holes in that one," she giggled. "Bratty deary, the bouquet...?"

The lankier bridesmaid obliged, handing a small bundle of golden flowers to Mrs Blook. Facing Asgore one last time, she threw them behind her with little thought, enjoying the brief outburst of shrieks and struggling as the War of the not-actually-Roses broke out. The shrieking became more applause suggesting a victor, so she joined her husband in looking down at Hephaestus, looking quite unsure of himself in the tuxedo he threatened to burst out of, while Flopsy grinned mischievously looking down at the flowers Hephaestus now held.

"Now, everybody," called Mettaton, "you're all invited to the reception at the brand new MuffeTT™ Conference Center. Ten percent off your first drink to the first hundred guests!"

**Author's Note:**

> Pastebin Version: https://pastebin.com/NSnwk2sV
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
